Twilight Zone: Woke
by Dean Fiora
Summary: Lizzie Ellis is a young Internet activist who specializes in smear campaigns against people she deems insufficiently progressive. When her latest effort drives a man to suicide, she is visited by a mysterious old woman who offers to make Lizzie's worst enemy vanish into thin air. Inspired by the TZ episode, "Four O'Clock."


The Twilight Zone

**WOKE**

by Dean Fiora

"Great news! Frank Della Rosa lost his job. He's paying the price for his racism. Thank you, Ellis Army! We couldn't have done it without you."

Lizzie smiled vindictively as she clicked "publish" and watched her latest blog entry appear on screen. She had reason to smile. In just a year, Elizabeth Marie Ellis had gone from unemployed liberal arts graduate to one of the Internet's 50 Most Influential People.

She came from a proud line of activists dating back to her maternal grandparents, who had marched for African-American civil rights in the '60s. Twenty years later, Lizzie's parents fought against Apartheid in South Africa. So it stood to reason that their daughter would feel passionately about political and social issues.

Not that Lizzie ever participated in, much less organized, a protest march. But she was quite happy to post photos from those demonstrations, along with supportive comments, to her various social media accounts.

Lizzie had never even voted. Why should she, when the two big political parties were practically the same? It was much more effective, she believed, to establish a strong Internet presence and make others aware of what mattered. And she must be doing something right; the Ellis Army (her followers on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter) was five million strong. When Lizzie brought their attention to something, the Ellis Army got right on it. They bombarded their leader's newest target with angry messages demanding whatever Lizzie told them to demand.

Lizzie's efforts had first cost the CEO of a small appliance company his job and his marriage when it was learned that he had sexually harassed his female employees going back some thirty years. She had also made life miserable for an uneducated, middle-aged white woman whose racist tirade was filmed when a Latino beat her to a parking space. At last report, the woman had been fired from her job, evicted from her apartment, and now lived in a homeless shelter. That's how you handle a racist!

After a few more small-scale victories, Lizzie went after a veteran Hollywood film actor who tweeted that a recently deceased female colleague was "one of the most beautiful, brilliant and talented women I've ever known." Lizzie took issue with his first commenting on her appearance, rather than her brilliance and talent. After an onslaught by the Ellis Army, the actor deleted his offending tweet and posted a long, sniveling apology for his supposed insensitivity. Though Lizzie grudgingly accepted the apology on behalf of oppressed women everywhere, the studios were still afraid to let the man work. He hadn't done a movie since the Twitter storm.

When a film critic said he was weary of superhero movies, the Ellis Army took him to task. After all, the review in which he wrote those words had been of a film with a black superhero. Clearly, this critic was a virulent racist who needed swift punishment. But then, a member of the Ellis Army posted that this particular reviewer had long championed African-American cinema. The poster also provided links to previous reviews. His fellow "soldiers" gave him a drubbing even worse than they had given the film critic. Lizzie waited until he had been hit with some 2,000 invective-filled comments before she blocked the "racist enabler" from her feed.

Now there was Frank Della Rosa, the 50-year-old manager of a New Jersey seafood restaurant. He had recently treated his staff to a dance party to celebrate the restaurant's 40th anniversary. Frank was highly impressed with the moves of his 20-year-old dishwasher, Amos. With the young man's permission, Frank had filmed Amos dancing and posted the video to the restaurant's Facebook page. He included the caption, "Boy, this dude can dance! Wish I had his sense of rhythm."

Since Amos was African-American, the backlash was immediate and barbarous. It only got worse when Lizzie posted the name and contact information of the restaurant's owner and implored the Ellis Army to get in touch. Amos took to social media to support and defend his boss, but it did no good—especially when the Ellis Army's few black members called him an "Uncle Tom." In the end, Frank Della Rosa was let go from the job he had held for 32 years.

Lizzie's activism had also proven lucrative. Her calls for donations had made her an almost instant millionaire. At 23, she had just purchased an expensive brownstone. And now she had a book deal in the works. Some people criticized Lizzie for what they deemed her extravagant lifestyle, but she could count on her friends in the Ellis Army to defend her against those people. Some of the memes they created were a bit much, especially when aimed at certain female media figures who had taken Lizzie to task. But this was a war for America's soul and one had to bend, or even break, the rules.

* * *

Lizzie often slept until 10:00 a.m. However, a phone call jolted her awake at 7:30. Rapidly blinking her eyes, Lizzie read the name on screen and took the call.

"Mom? What's up?"

The woman was hysterical. "My god, Lizzie! What have you done?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"Frank Della Rosa killed himself!"

Once she got her mother off the phone, Lizzie sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought. Goddammit! Why did this have to happen? Would it screw up her book deal? Even worse, would it affect donations?

She'd have to give her lawyer a call and ask how to respond to the news. Frank wouldn't be in his office until 9:00, though. When Lizzie couldn't go back to sleep, she fired up the laptop to see how her detractors were using that loser's suicide against her.

* * *

With Frank's help, Lizzie drafted a tactful but firm statement on the death of Frank Della Rosa, in which she absolved herself of all blame. With that out of the way, he made herself a light lunch and drifted off on the couch—only to be jolted out of a sound sleep for the second time that day. Now it was a knock on the door.

An old lady was on the stoop, 70 years old if she was a day. She wore a lime green pantsuit and held a huge black purse. Lizzie winced as a musty "old woman" smell wafted in her direction.

"Umm…. Hello."

"Miss Ellis?"

"Yes. Have we met?"

"Oh, no. I wanted to talk to you, though."

"About…?"

The old lady explained, "You see, I admire your commitment to social justice and am troubled that you're being blamed for that poor man's death."

"Oh! Well, thanks. I appreciate that."

"I can help you with your troubles."

"What do you mean?"

"I can tell you how to make your worst enemy disappear."

Lizzie raised her eyebrows. "Are you offering to have someone killed for me?"

"Oh, no! Nothing like that. May I come in?"

"Uhh, sure."

As they sat on the couch, the old lady said, "As I was saying, I know how you can make your worst enemy disappear."

"And just who is my worst enemy?"

"That's not for me to know, dear." She opened her purse and pulled out an ancient, leather-bound book. "This book contains a spell that will make the worst person in your life vanish into thin air."

Lizzie groaned inwardly. She should have known the old bat was crazy.

"I can tell by that look on your face, you don't believe me."

"You have to admit, it seems pretty far-fetched."

"Of course, dear, of course. But I have a lifetime of experience with conjuring. I've used many of the spells in this book. I'm telling you, they work."

She might as well humor the old bat. "So, how does this spell go?"

The old lady opened her book and turned to the right page. "Recite this incantation at midnight. Repeat it five times and your worst enemy will be gone forever."

With the old woman's permission, Lizzie scanned the page onto her laptop. As she returned the book, the old woman said, "One more thing: you're not to tell anyone about this, or it won't work."

Lizzie had to grin. "You just knew as soon as you left, I'd be all over social media with this."

"Don't do it! Otherwise, your worst enemy will continue to plague you."

"Lady, I'm not even sure who my worst enemy is. How will I know if they disappear?"

"Oh, you'll know."

* * *

"In other news, today marks one week since the disappearance of Lizzie Ellis. Last Wednesday, the controversial Internet activist made a cryptic social-media posting: 'Just had a most unusual visitor! Details tomorrow.' But not only did Lizzie Ellis not give the details, she hasn't been seen or heard from since."

The old lady muted CNN and wiped the tears from her eyes. Making Lizzie Ellis disappear would not bring back her son Frank, but at least that horrible young woman would never ruin another life.


End file.
